A Christmas Letter

Dearest you,

Doesn't seem like it has been a year past since I sat beside you and gave you a Christmas present that I had completely put my heart, soul and thought into finding for you. There was so much reasoning put into that small gesture; something goofy, something whimsical, and something close to the heart. The explanation of the key still holds as true today as it did a year ago. I want nothing more for you than to find happiness and love beyond belief in a peer; and for all I know, maybe you really do have that and try to play it off as not. I often wonder sometimes if I have ever met the real "you" or if you have only ever shown me versions of you which you want me to see. 

Regardless of the answer, I gave you my heart - much like the lyrics to the song - "last Christmas, I gave you my heart and on the very next day, you gave it away, this year.." it was not long after, I found myself rejected by you. While I had given you my heart well before Christmas, and if you could only see inside my head or my heart, rewind time to know I had given you my heart and all of who I am before I ever boarded that plane. I was mortally wounded by your accusations which you still bring up regularly because I would have then nor now ever thought of looking at another male or person for that matter the way I look at you. I could never give myself to anyone else because I already gave it away, whether it was accepted or not, for better or worse, I am yours. I will likely go to my grave still feeling this way. The other side of the hurt, I was trying to be a version on me you claimed you wanted/wished me to be, a more outgoing vocal, sure of myself version. I was only able to be sure of myself when I felt you stood beside me and took pride in being with me. How quickly that all changed and how quickly being sure of myself caused you anger and my meekness to return. I cannot be the person who causes pain and frustration to others just for attempting to be a better version of myself. Instead, I will now keep to the corner as a wallflower. I will not speak freely with those I do not know unless they approach me first. This isn't meant to be a "punching bag" session, but rather to explain I tried it your way, and I hurt one of the very few people in the world I would rather walk through fire than hurt. 

The worst part, while I do feel you tried to start a fight before I boarded the plane and felt betrayed simply by my leaving in the first place so you were looking to be upset, I do feel before I left, I had a large part of your heart. I really feel when I came back, you still felt very strongly about me. However, you convinced yourself I easily dismissed you and felt completely betrayed by the action; I konw I would have felt similiar. I never dismissed you but only ever thought of you as I still do. You ability to view the events as a complete betrayal and dismissal helped you later to dismiss my feelings and deny your own to the point you resented me and I believe you still do. That resentment from you hurts so much. 

This year, had you not insisted on being irrate and irritated by my wanting to present you with a small token, you would have received in all it's spectacular glory, a gaudy makeshift "locket" and "key", meant to signify my heart and the key to it. A locket, because after the past several months or longer, I have closed my heart back up and locked it back down, but the only person who now possesses the power to unlock my heart is you. You hold not only the key to my heart but the lock itself. It does not matter if another comes into my life, you would have to give permission to me and the other person to allow them access to even try to the lock to my love and adoration. 

It seems so ignorant of me to feel such a way about someone who is so easily dismissive of me, but the heart, the mind, emotion is an odd creature that no one can explain. I wish you were easy to walk away from or that I was a person who could just cut a person out of their life, but that isn't me. I am trying to learn to put myself first so that I can quit feeling so "less than." It isn't easy as I miss you so each and every day. Even when we don't speak, you cross my mind a 1,000 times in a day. Even when we don't see each other, I still whisper to the air that I love you. Almost everything for the past month, you have visited my dreams. I hope as I write this, it will relieve some of the emotion I have and am feeling and will put some closure to "us." 

Regardless of the closure, know, my heart is still yours, as it has been and as it will continue. You are the only one who can unlock it, or with luck, allow permission to someone worth (possibly worthier than you) to unlock it so that I may love again. 

I have stated multiple times, I am not perfect. I am flawed; possibly beyond being able to be loved. My heart is kind and my soul is gentle. I am just skittish. I wish I would have been more skittish with you. It would likely have saved me a lot of restless nights, saved a ton of anxiety, and would have kept me more protected. What is done is done, and it can't be undone, so learn and move forward. I have leared from different scenarios with you and I thank you for the growth. Unfortunately, while I am generous and giving and caring, I am also greedy and wanted your heart, something I will never have. 

I guess I need to just say it one more time, my dearest you, I love you. I love you as I have from more than a year. Each day, even with silence and distance, the love for you grows both in becoming more love than I can express but also as it matures; unconditionally, absently, etc. You do not have to be in my life daily for me to love you as I do. I wish you nothing but happiness and positive energy inthe coming year; even if it is without me.
Until we meet again, know you are always on my mind and in my heart. 

Loving you always and forever, 

The girl you put a spell on

Not Listening

You claim I am not listening. I questioned what I was not listening to you say. You fail to provide a response. So, I ask again, why or how am I not listening?
Am I not listening to the pathetic excuse of an apology in which you justify how you are right and I am wrong?
Am I not listening when you claim you do not talk to anyone and yet you admit you speak to others on a more regular basis than you speak with me? Or am I not listening when you tell me you contact others when the only way I receive contact from you is when I initiate the conversation?
Am I not listening when you claim I am “worse than (you) thought”?
Am I not listening when you claim you cannot trust me because you cannot keep my series of life events in order but yet you choose to lie to me?
Am I not listening when you tell me you have never known love and yet I have seen in black and white the proof of where you went above and beyond to tell another how much you loved them days before that relationship ended?
Am I not listening when you explode on me for finally calling you out on all your hypocritical actions or the ways in which you take me for granted?
Am I not listening when one day you tell me how important I am, how much you have relied on me, and then another day you tell me you never wish to talk to me again and I can just go fuck off?
I am listening, I am watching, I am taking notes of all of these things and more. I listen when you tell me how I am just not enough for you, how I am not good enough for your time, how you are unable to communicate with me. I am listening to the truth which spews from your mouth in the words of negativity. I am listening to what you say, I am listening to not only your words written and spoken, but also your actions and your effort.
I am listening more than you would prefer me to do.

what is love

I have been thinking a lot about love. What is love? What does it really mean to love someone? Why have we let society push us to believe love can only be between two people?
Once upon a time a great man taught the world to love, and to love everyone. Yet, society and standards today teach us we can only love one person at a time and we must choose only that one person to love and stay with "til death do us part."
I do not believe I have ever experienced true real love, the kind that is selfless, caring, giving, and open. That is the point of this ramble, open love. Why is when we do love someone we feel we must hide that love? Why can the love not be open? Why do those who are important in our lives feel threatened and jealous of the love we have for others? If love had jealousy and pride, it is not love.
I have come to believe that love, in its truest form is completely unconditional. Yes, you can get mad and irritated and upset with the person, but you never stop loving them, not for a moment. Occasionally, you realize they do things just to hurt you and you decide you must walk away from that pain, but you never stop loving them, at least I do not.
Back to my main point, why can we as people and a society not learn to love and to be happy for love when it exists for those we already love. In society, due to diseases, I would not want the person I am physically intimate to be out screwing other people all the time. However, if the person I love and am intimate with was mature enough to come forward and tell me they found a love in another person and that love brings them joy, then I would be joyful for them. Dealing with relationships in a manner in which we just want to see each other happy, where we can love and be loved instead of being bitter and finding hate, would it not make our society a much better place.
If I found love in another person, I would  not want my significant other or theirs to be upset about the feelings or the intimacy shared. I would want them to find joy in the happiness we found together. I would also want them to understand in the love I speak of, I do not want to be selfish and take something away from someone else but rather I want to share and to grow the love and respect. I want to be caring and considerate of the relationships already in place. I want to grow relationships from those and become a stronger, more loving unit for all involved.
The hardest part: I am happy for other peoples happiness. I am happy when others find love. I can still love someone who loves someone else. I do not appreciate when people feel the need to lie or sneak or withhold information about their feelings for others. Even more so, when I become hurt for being lied to and feeling I was taken advantage of, I do not appreciate being told what a horrible person I am or how I am so much worse than they imagined. The love is still there. It still exists. It is pure and good and true. My trust, that is different, because there is so very little I trust anymore so to have that broken because of games; that is why I was ignorant. I was stupid to believe others could be as open to the idea of love, real love, the way I am. I know there are others out there, but they are so rare and so few and far between.
(Apologies for the rough version of this rant, my mind is not necessarily focused as it typically is due to exhaustion)

things to say

She stared at the screen. She had just typed out the message and was reading it. She deleted it entirely. She typed out a new sentence, and then deleted it. The more she tried to communicate, the more frustrated she became. She knew anything she said would be seen as petty or hateful and that wasn't the intent. Maybe the bridge was better left burned.
The day had started off completely ironic and the one person she wished to share it with didn't want to hear it. She had spent months early in their relationship searching for his elusive ex of which he had spoken so underminingly. This morning while scrolling through her social media feed, the ex had appeared. It had taken her completely off guard; and yet, she couldn't help but be curious and delve into the rabbit hole and click on the profile. Curiousity killed the cat; satisfaction brought it back. A week, a month, or even 3 months ago, she wouldn't have even bothered. She would have screen shot the irony and sent it to him in a text message and laughed about it. However, his recent description of her sounded so like the description of his ex, she couldn't help but be intrigued. She almost wanted to send her a message and see if they could do coffee sometime. She wanted another perspective on this person she had thought she had known but had been so good at hiding his real thoughts and actions.
She didn't know many people who knew him. She really didn't have anything bad to say about him, but he had a lot to say about her - all negative- which is why she felt his true self had never really surfaced. If he had felt the way he described her recently, maybe he wasn't who she had thought he was.
She admired his intelligence. She admired his dedication to his family. She admired a lot about him. So why the sudden shift and the burning of the bridge? Often his words were positive; and when they were, they made her feel secure. However, there were times when he let slip negative thoughts about her and she questioned his true feelings. It reminded her a lot of one of her exs. The ex would tell her she was beautiful, hot, sexy, intelligent - then a day or two later tell her she was a fat cow, no one would look at her twice, and she was dumb as a box of rocks. The ex would put her down and then throw a bone occasionally to make her happy and want to stick around him. It is very easy to fall into that trap.
The thing she couldn't tell about him was whether he was pulling the gas lighting thing her ex pulled or if he said the hurtful things because he was lashing out during a disagreement or argument - if he was using it as a way to detach himself from her. Either way, it was hurtful and hit too close to home to a life she had left behind long ago. She hadn't been ready to walk away from him regardless, but the argument had spiraled out of control so fast, she didn't see anyway to fix it. She had been the last to speak and he had not responded. She wasn't going to dive back into the hornets nest, she was still feeling the sting days after the incident and wasn't prepared to be hurt any more; not now. The tears welled in her eyes as she saw he was online and she wanted to just say hi. She had been curious who he was now online to chat with as he claimed he didn't use social media, but only to chat with her. Any night while they had talked in the past 6 months he had been in bed at 10 pm and it was well past that time. She had noticed during the morning he had been online around 4:30 or 5 am. Again, she was curious if he just couldn't sleep, or if he had already found a new relationship - one which didn't wear him down the way he claimed she did.
She still wondered about his ex. The hour was growing late and an early morning awaited. She typed out another sentence, but fear of being snarky instead of witty caused her to delete it yet again. As she looked at the screen while she deleted it, she realized he was no longer online. She sighed and realized it was probably for the best. Most of what she wanted to say she had said a hundred times before and it never made any difference. She cared about him and she missed him. She wished they weren't at such odds but didn't know how to fix it or even if it was worth fixing. She wished to tell him about his ex just for the irony of it. She realized none of it likely mattered to him. The tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned off the screen. She rolled over, hugging her own body, and cried into her pillow, whispering "I love you."

life goes on

I am not playing the emotional victim. There are many things I just don't understand, so many contridictive comments. I wish I could understand better, but I have lost the will to continue to fight for what I once thought was worth fighting for.
I do and will continue to miss you. I trusted and really opened up for the first time in a long time. I won't say I was taken advantage, but I was a very low point. The distraction was welcome as was the companionship. However, the push for me to let down my guard, to open, to let you in; those were selfish actions on the behalf of someone who wanted to have control. Sad thing, you had it all. There were words said which I once believed to be true but now, looking back, see how hollow and hypothetical they were. I was so desperate to be loved; I sincerely believed when you claimed you were feeling the same thing which only made me fall harder.
I love you unconditionally. I would walk through fire for you. I would drive hundreds of miles if you asked. I would give my soul to rescue yours. There is not much I wouldn't do, or rather would not have done for you. I would likely wait an eternity to be yours; only you never wanted me. You chased, and I gave into the prowl. You tried to change me, but am I not fine the way I am? You wanted me to be someone different, but I am not her.
I am sad. I am a little lost. I am also finding my strength to forge ahead and release the memories. Reminds me of a song: " Tell me something that's poetic at best, make me believe there was a time that you weren't like the rest, and I'll never ask you again; for all the moments and the memories, no on could ever say we never had a history".... The memories make me want you in my life now and I don't think either of us are ready. You have my heart and I don't know that I will ever get it back. I am so tired of giving my all to people who pick and choose what pieces of themselves they are willing to give me. Do I not deserve to get all of someone when I have given all of me? I know if you read this you will think I mean all of you all the time, but that isn't it; I just want you to give me all of you in the way I have given all of me. I want you to want to spend time with me; not all your time, just time. You claim you don't have time, but then you say all you have is time.
There was a moment, longer than fleeting, when you wished to have all the moments we could spend; you wanted to hear all of my words. Now, you grow tired and bothered by the things I say. I stay busy in an attempt to not let my mind wander to you. It helps for the most part, but then...but then I stop and you are everywhere. I can't stop thinking of you; a lobotomy sounds pretty good right now.
You state I am crazy and toxic. Really? All I wanted was for you to be happy and to share some of that happiness in small moments. How is does wanting you to be happy equate to being toxic? I wish I could understand.
I have always said I believe in the fairy tale, but the fairy tale for me doesn't mean what it does to most. It means coming home to someone who sees me. It means having someone in my life who is willing to share the load; no one wants to do all the work, but when you work together - life is a little easier. The fairy tale is having someone look at me the way they did when we first kissed; with passion and desire. The fairy tale doesn't mean never arguing, but it means taking time to work through those arguments so you don't go to bed upset with one another. It doesn't mean agreeing on everything, it means agreeing to disagree. It means having a partner you tell everything; and who tells you everything; who when you have a bad day doesn't want to always show you the sunny side but will give you a hug and snuggle in a chair or the couch and tell you they are there. Or on those really bad days when life just doesn't seem worth living, will show up and listen; not find excuses why they can't be there.
There is a lot I will miss. I will continue to cry. Eventually the pain will become an old hat; life goes on; and I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. I will never forget. The pain won't go away. I won't heal. I will just learn to live with it as I have most things. I know this, but it doesn't make it any easier.

Toxic

As she walked through the door, the she could feel the negativity hanging in the air. The week had been a busy one and she was ready to just breathe, unfortunately, she knew breathing wasn't going to be on the agenda this evening.
It was becoming worse, and the worse it became, the more she just wanted to stay away from home. She had been having to leave the house early and work late to meet deadlines. Then there was the obligation to the kids activities. She had set herself up to be swollowed by a black hole but she did these things for the kids. While they missed her at home, they enjoyed every precious moment she spent with them. Lately, having an electronic device taken away or being grounded from TV wasn't punishment but rather punishment was in her not reading a bedtime story or seeing them early in the morning before she quickly ran out the door.
All of her actions were for her family. However, the patriach of the household just wanted to hold it over her head. When she woke in the morning, he was already grumbling under his breath. Each day that week before she had left for work he had choosen to raise his voice and pick an argument or throw accusations at her. Dealing with the negativity and toxic environment first thing out of bed made it hard to start the day on a good note. Another reason she decided to focus on the kids in the mornings and when she finally came home at night. Their love for her, their genuine smiles to see her and spend time, to tell her about their day, all of those things made her day a little brighter.
Unfortunately, the toxic environment wasn't affecting just her, it was taking its toll on the kids as well. The anger which she sensed always in the air was quite often taken out on them in her absense. It was so very frustrating. She was an adult, she knew it had nothing to do with her really, but the kids, the kids don't understand it has nothing at all to do with them - well mostly nothing to do with them. They were kids, there were constant aggrevations with the lack of chores being completed. Yet, from their point of view, they were expected to do the dishes, pick up, sweep, mop, take care of the animals, and take care of each other; and so often when he was home, he sat in his recliner and did nothing. They could understand when she finally sat down and zoned out, she ran ragged, and she also let things she requested of them to slide - a little.
The toxic environment, how she became to describe home to outsiders. Isn't home suppose to be the safe haven from the storm? Hell no, not her house, not now. They were both adults. There was no need to be hostile or hateful. There was a need to work through chores in a divide and conquer manner and a need to agree on discpline while they were still under the same roof. The more toxic and hateful it became the more she counted down the days til she could leave. She really thought they could co-habitate and co-parent while they worked toward the greater good of paying down debt and looking for a better opportunity for the both of them.
She had no reason to be angry with him and tried to be polite, but he made it almost impossible. He was always so angry and bitter. He was hateful and rude and disrespectful. He wanted to kids to be well behaved, respectful and honest and yet he possessed so very few of those traits. It was just become so tiresome and she was already so tired with everything else that wore her down; yet the outside issues which wore her down kept her so busy she didn't have much time to focus on the toxic.
The countdown had begun. She only hoped this time she could make progress. She dreamt of the place that was hers, where it was only her and the boys, where the air was calm and life was just a little bit easier, while not any less hectic. Soon, she felt it, soon she would have it.

Anybody out there

She sat on the bed, blankets pulled up, heating pad under her feet. It was the end of summer, fall was just around the corner. The days were still reaching 90 degree temperatures and yet at night she just could not get or stay warm.
She was working on a few things on the computer, preparing for the next day. In the background she kept several programs running. There had been radio silence for 24 hours. She wanted to reach out, but considering she was always the one starting a conversation, she had hoped for a little effort. There had been no calls, no text messages, no private messages, nothing. She tried to focus her attention on items she could control, like the work she needed to finish.
She didn't want to play games. It wasn't her nature. Part of her felt waiting for him to make contact was a game, while the other half felt waiting for someone who she felt she annoyed half the time to make contact, was respectful so she did not continue to annoy. He made her feel like she was a chore rather than enjoyable company. Feeling less than anything was not a good place for her. She had been working to eradicate such negativity from her life. She did not want to cut ties, but she knew once the first 24 hours was complete, waiting for him to say he wanted her in his life without her having to seek such confirmation would become easier.
She had been busy most of the day. She had very few moments to do anything personal. She had even fewer to participate in her guilty pleasure of checking social media. The occassionally messaged using the private messaging applications within in social media. The handful of times she had checked the private messaging to see if he had been active, she had just missed his being online.
At this knowledge, half of her wondered who he spent time talking to on the site; a friend, family member, a replacement to occupy his time. The other half wondered if he was seeking a message from her. Again, no games were intended. She was just tired of always feeling like a nuisance. She asked several time for him to meet her to chat, and each time was told no. The constant rejection and lack of enthusiasm made it hard for her to feel like she was anything more than a burden on his time and an irritation to him.
She had recently taken time to "serve her heart on a silver platter" so to say, giving him the knife and gun and map to all the places and ways to hurt her. He claimed he would respond and like any other time such claims were made, he never did. He had made a lot of comments and even promises and never followed through. Yet, she was the bad person for being upset when he let her down. It all confused her so much.
She checked the site one more time, and turned her attention back to work, the one constant, security in her life. Her day had not been bad. She had continued to focus on the positives. As always, she went above and beyond for those around her. She had done several items at work, both related to her job and not related, which were not required and for which she had not much time to accomplish, but it had made others happy as it made their job eaiser. One of those had nothing at all to do with work, but had made her supervisor extremely pleased on a personal level, which made her feel accomplished and proud of taking those moments.
She had never expected others do as much as she was willing to do for them. She knew people in general did not operate in that capacity. She just wanted those she cared for to reach out and tell she was missed, she was cared for, she was needed (in some capacity). She had thought recently of taking her life. She sincerely though about it now, and wondered exactly how many people, aside from her children who would really miss her. Some would be saddened for a day or two, but most wouldn't think twice about it a week down the road. Life would resume, she would be forgotten, until a "remember when" story surfaced. At her age, those stories were so few and far between. She wondered if anyone would even be aware she was gone once she was.
Which made her think of him again. She was not missed by him. He had no reason to reach out to her. She would continue to sit and stare at the screen in front of her and work on the items she could control. Tomorrow would either be easier or a little harder, but she knew, the longer he went without putting forth an effort toward her, the more he confirmed he never really cared.
She felt yet again she had been gaslighted. She decided the screen was getting her no where and so she shut down the computer, turned off the lights, and lay in bed, with a whisper into the dark for his heart to hear "I love you" and a prayer she would not dream for she knew if she did it would be of him.

It was a a quiet night at the house. The sun had not set long before and the stars were shining over head. The cooler night air implied the start of fall was not too far in the future. The whipperwill was no longer heard and while the chirping bugs and the few lonely frogs were still sounds of the late evening, they were much quieter than they had been during the heat of summer. A late afternoon shower had left the ground wet yet the pavement of the roads and driveways had received enough time to dry considerably.
She had arrived home long after the sunset. Her days and evenings were beyond full; a constant movement which helped keep her mind from her personal life; well, mostly. She opened the door and walked through the house, illuminating the various lamps and lights in different areas of the house. She made her way toward the bedroom, stepping quickly from her office attire. She settled into a tank top after removing her bra. She slipped a warm, comfortable hoodie over her head. She chose a pair of capri sweats from the shelf and tugged them before slipping her feet into the flip flops she kept under her bed; one of the two pair of go to shoes for the evening hours, the other being a pair of ballet flats.
She walked into the kitchen again, stopping to water the plants in the window and hanging in the corner from the ceiling. She filled a glass with water and quickly finished the contents. She then opened the fridge and pulled out an ice cold can which had been left from a previous visit with friends. She popped the top on the can, and almost inhaled the contents of the can. After her first long drink, she set the can on the counter and stepped through the back door to the porch. She stood there for a moment attempting to look at the stars through the foiliage of the trees. She left the door open but slid the screen door shut as she walked back to the counter to grab her can.
She looked at the couch waiting empty and alone in the livingroom and then glanced back at the door she had just returned from; the outdoor setting won her interest. She had thought about grabbing her phone but decided instead to leave in on the counter while she enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the outside and continued to focus on the stars shining beautifully above her head.
She had been so lost in looking at the stars and listening to the sounds around her while her memories had drifted across her mind like a movie; she had almost jumped out of her skin when something brushed against her throat. She dumped her can in the process and had almost succeeded in giving him a black eye. He sat back and laughed heartily as she struggled to catch her breath and clean up the mess she had made. She glared at him with a low rumbling growl under her breath. She then dropped what she was using to clean the table and jumped on top of him; luckily, he caught her. He flipped her around so she was seated across his lap rather than straddling it. He leaned her backward and kissed her soft, yet firm on the mouth. She melted in the kiss, in more ways than one as she felt herself begin to go wet. She pulled back from the kiss, and looked him in the eye. One of the best things about him, he never waivered in his gaze when their eyes met. Her breathe caught in her throat and her pulse quickened. She could feel the desire glaze her eyes as she leaned back in for another deep kiss. She hoped all she was thinking was conveyed in the action.
This time he broke from from her. She looked at him again, then slid from his lap. She stood up watching him while she did. She hesitated before stepping toward the door. He grabbed her hand to pull her back toward him as he stood. She fell into him and he engaged in another deep meaning lip lock as he grabbed her ass and pulled her into his arms and lifted her. She felt him set her on the top of the table where she had recently spilled her drink. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his hands found her back and hair to pull her closer. She again felt the desire deep in her abdomen as their bodies entertwined. She could feel his desire. She reached for the bottom of his shirt as he slid her shirt from her body and stepped back to look at her. She was always self conscious under his gaze yet there was something there that made her bold; she felt desired and attractive when he looked at her in that way. He leaned in again to trail his lips along her ear and neck as his hands slid behind her to undo her bra. She heard the small moans release from her lips and bit her bottom lip to keep silent.
Her hands soon found his bare torso. She adored the feel of his skin and the warmth of his bare chest to hers. His mouth continued is exploration of her body as he trailed down her chest and her stomach. She fought back against squirming and giggling as it tickled and concentrated instead on the erotic intensity of it. He made his way to the top of her jeans and tugged playfully at them with his teeth before trailing his way back to find her lips with his. Too soon into another deep kiss, he stopped to pick her up and carry her into the house.
While she welcomed the comfort of the couch where he initially stopped to continue his arousing of her senses, she had also enjoyed the thought of having him fill her with the stars bright over head. Sensibily, she thought she would likely not have been able to enjoy the interaction as much on the hard unpolished wooden table. The house was comfortable, he had dimmed some of the lights she had left on when she had walked outside. They were soon engaged in another kiss, during which she found the top of his jeans and worked to unbutton them while he did the same to hers. Too quick almost, he had her out of her jeans and in nothing but her panties while his jeans remained in place only open in the front. She slid her hand under the waistband of his boxers to caress him. His eyes turned to deep dark puddles of lust. He stripped her panties from her and quickly slid out of his jeans, leaving his boxers and socks in tact. Her body was screaming to feel him in her and next to her; craving to feel their bodies become one. Somehow he had given her what no other could give her in the past and that alone excited her.
He found her wet pussy with his mouth and brought her to the brink of an orgasm. He yet again pulled back and just stared at her nude body and the way she squirmed. He was taking an immense amount of time or so it seemed to her as she was ready for feel him enter her. He then leaned over and kissed her deeply and passionately, before scooping her up and carrying her to the bedroom. He carefully lowered her to the bed and stepped back while he finished undressing. As he stepped closesr she moved quickly to pull him into her mouth and afford him some of the pleasure he had recently bestowed upon her. She so enjoyed giving him pleasure in anyway. She could almost orgasm just from taking time to pleasure him. He soon stopped her, walked over to dim the lights and then lay down on the bed beside her, pulling her body closer to his. The warmth of his body was welcome to her, but more so the simple feeling of their bare skin next to each other was comforting. She enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms. His kiss was unlike any other and she could never get enough.
He continued to caress her as she did him. His kisses became deeper and more meaningful, almost hungry. She soon flipped herself on top of him as she could not stand another minute of not having him inside her. She straddled him for a moment, staring deeply into his eyes yet again. She leaned down slowly to kiss him and stopped moments before her lips touched his, her body waivering inches above him. She could feel his breath catch and could almost feel his pulse quicken. She liked knowing she had as much of an effect on him as he did on her as he didn't allow her to know it often.
As she leaned into the kiss, she lowered her body and slid back just enough to feel her own breath catch as he entered her.
It amazed her sometimes still how perfectly their bodies fit together, how smooth he could enter without guidance - unlike so many lovers she had previously. There was something other worldly about being with him. She tried not to over analyze the interactions and just enjoy them, but there was almost something magical about there intimacy. Sex with him wasn't just sex. Of course, there were times it was just sex; but most of the time, he met her and kept her on a different realm. The connection between them was as if their bodies and souls had known each other for long before this world. It was hard for her to just let him go between those times and not think about him or crave his presense. There was a part of her that felt empty with his absense. She tried to not come across clingy or needy - often failing miserably. She wasn't a needy girl. She was very independent and she enjoyed being so. She learned at an early age to be self sufficient and need no one. Yet, when he was not around or there was lack of communication, she literally felt as if part of her soul was missing; she felt hallow and empty. She had tried so hard to not allow emotions. Emotions were messy and worthless. Yet, she couldn't help the way she felt about him emotionally. She could not put those feelings into words for words did them no justice.

Tears shed

She sat on the bed the way small children sit on the floor. She had pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, with her forehead resting atop her knees and her hands in her hair at the side of her head. Her tears fell, feeling like a warm summer shower down her face and onto her legs. She had not yet started sobbing. She was attempting to phyiscally hold herself together to keep from breaking apart the way her heart was. The empty hollow feeling her broken heart left in her chest made it hard for her to breathe, let alone sob. All her thoughts surrounded him, their time together, and her heart which was now with him. How could she have been so careless? How could she have been such a fool to trust?

In the beginning it had been light, fun, and careless. She would almost say simple but it was anything but simple then. He started conversations and sought her company. In his mind, he was chasing her; never knowing it was secretly what she wanted. He was everything she had found attractive in her youth; tall, dark hair, dark eyes, full lips, lean, athletic body.  For some reason, he found her intriguing. Of course she realized looking back to the start, she was a mystery for him as she was too most. She kept her emotions closed off from others and spent little time smiling as there were little reason for her to smile then.She was honest and blunt in her words, so much so she had stepped on his feelings a time or two never meaning to do so. They would spend hours talking, late nights driving with no destination in mind.

She recalled the first awkward kiss, with  a center console between them. She remembered the taste of his minty gum he always had in his mouth. She could almost feel his hands in her hair in place of her own. The tears fell a little harder and her eyes began to swell from the constant crying as she recalled the way he would pull her from him just so he could stare into her eyes. He would tell her she was amazing, or beautiful. He would say those words no one had ever told her prior; the words she had hoped so long to hear from someone sincere. In those moments, she had believed he was completely sincere. Those were the early days, when it was light and happy, and overly complicated. She kept her walls firmly in place so she wouldn't fall too hard or too fast; only he pushed and begged her to let them down. He would claim he could not be close with someone who kept others at arms length; never taking the time to truly understand why she did so.

The joke was on her, he would never allow himself to get close to her, walls in tact or not. She felt the sobs begin to shake her body as she could no longer hold them back. She felt the headache that felt so much like a hangover from the constant tears and dehydration. She had not been able to eat more than a few bites for days. She was holding strong to the caffiene and nicotine diet. Those around her chastised her but she could care less; they would never understand how bad the pain of it all hurt. How she had given herself to someone so completely for the first time in a decade only to be made the fool.

She had learned for a short while to smile while with him. Her body, her heart, her mind, her soul; it all opened up, blossoming like a flower on a dew dripped sunny spring morning. He became a harbor in her storm. His presense calmed her. His voice, his touch, his gaze; they all made her feel at peace. His being calmed her mosters. She craved time with him the way addicts crave their next hit or their next drink. He was her drug.

Soon, he used his leverage to cause her to feel like she was less of a person. He would hold things over her head, tease her with things like a carrot dangled by a string before a hungry rabbit. She would jump and do all tricks, but he would never give the prize: his time. She wasn't worth it to him anymore. She became a mystery; a hunt - once he was done; she was cast aside like all the others who had come before her.

She now started rocking on the bed. She tried to calm the painful empty feeling in her heart as it had left her and now resided with him. Only, joke on her again, he didn't want it. He didn't want her. He had used it as he had wanted and was done.

She would slowly pick the pieces of herself back up from where she had fallen apart on the bed. Eventually she would be where she was before him, smile-less; stoic; closed off - she need only get past the pain and the tears which refused to stay in her eyes and continually trickled down her face. Once she put herself back together, she had only another lesson to learn from - she was better off alone. She had known this from prior experience. She had tried to not wind up like her mother, bitter and skeptical. She now faced the truth: jaded was who she was and it was now only worse than it had been before him.

She cried even harder knowing if he would change his stance and give her any of his time once again, she would run back to him. She was his. She needed to cut the ties with herself. She had given him all of her, but he had taken the best part. Now it was time for her to cut herself off from that good part, the happy version of herself who loved and gave selflessly. She would only be a mere shell of herself going forward, but with any luck, she would not feel anything anymore. The pain was just too much.

Heartbreak

She lay in bed, curled in a ball, her head on the pillow. The tears quietly slid down her checks and she tried hard to wipe them away without making noise. She stiffled her sobs into the pillow. Her heart was broken.
She had always known the danger of loving someone again meant her heart walked around outside of her body with them. She had built huge walls to keep it from happening again. She had believed him when he said he was different, when he begged her to let him in those walls. She had warned once she let the walls down, she was likely to fall fast and hard; and still he asked. She pushed herself to let him inside sooner than she would have ever done prior. He now owned her heart, her soul, and her mind. She had given every part of herself to him, and yet, he had no intention of returning the gesture. He kept his walls firmly in place, he kept her at arms length, and then when he was bored he left her alone. The more she remembered and thought of him, the heavier the tears flowed down her checks. She wanted nothing more than to have him hold her and yet she wanted nothing more than to never see him again.
She remembered when they first began talking how easy and yet awkward things had started. She could recall with such ease, the feel of his hands on her face, holding back her hair as he told her how beautiful she was; something no one else had ever told her; something she knew to be a lie, but such a beautiful lie from such beautiful lips. She should have realized then that if he could lie to her so easily he would never be truly honest or open with her. She recalled the intent stare of his gaze and the comforting feel of his hands on her skin. She remembered long conversations about everything and nothing. She recalled his constant discussion about "if we are to be together" he needed honesty and faithfulness.
She was fine in the beginning, having fun, getting to know someone. Then he decided to talk about a future and tell her how amazing and magical she was. She began to believe he really saw her in the way he claimed he did. All of sudden, it all went dark. The good morning text messages disappeared. The phone calls just to see how she was doing ended. He vanished unless she started to conversation.
She inhaled deeply trying to not start sobbing for fear if she did she would never stop. She had not been able to stop the tears that sprung to her eyes everytime she thought of him and the lies he had spun, the web she had been caught so cleverly in simply because he had been bored. She had been a simple distraction and game. Once she admitted she belonged to him in every sense of the word, he disappeared on her and left a huge gapping void in his absense.
While the void left her breathless and feeling like the world was crashing on her shoulders, the final words he spoke to her hurt worse than anything else he could have done or said to her. She would have preferred a slap to the face, or even a fist, to the the words he left in print - that she was the reason why she had been abandoned, the one thing he had promised he would not do to her. It was her FAULT her mother, her father, her friends, her past loves, and the numerous others had walked away from her. Even more, it was her fault because she cared too much, did too much, because in essense she was herself, it drove others away.
Now she lay in bed, with the tears streaming down her face, fighting to catch her breath. She lay there, half a person as he had taken her heart and her soul. Her mind was filled constantly with thoughts of him, general thoughts, memories of their time, wanting to speak to him and yet really feeling like if he cared, he should reach out to explain the painful, hurtful words he used to throw in her face. She almost felt she would be better off not sleeping as every night was riddled with dreams of him. Even her subconscious belonged to him.
Even with the pain, she wasn't ready to walk away, but she was also not willing to seek out further punishment from him. She had told him she was hurt and it made no difference to him, he only clamined by her expression of the pain he caused her was her using him as a punching bag. Another slap would have been better received.
She was so confused by his words and actions when he had made all these claims about her. Which was the lie? Was it all a lie? Had the beginning when he had seemed trustworthy and caring been the lie? Was the lie when he claimed he cared so deeply and needed her in his life? Was the lie about needing her only a way for him to start stepping away with the hope there would be less hurt? Was the lie he couldn't be just friends? Was the lie he ever gave cared at all?
She once trusted him so completely. She thought him good and wonderful. She thought him a next to the Greek Gods....a legend she was so blessed to know. Yet to know he could treat someone like her, who was so willing to do anything and everything for others, especially those she cared so deeply fo, with such contempt and callousness; to shut the door on their friendship and any other relationship they had so easily and blame it all on her; she felt everything about him had been a lie.
Now, she let loose the sobs. She could it back no longer. She had such faith in him, such trust. Her judge of character was usually not so far off the mark. People say things they don't always mean, but the things he said had cut so deeply and his unwillingness to put forth any effort to smooth the pain, to soften the blow or straight out apologize for being a coldhearted jackass; it really felt as if she had meant nothing when he had meant everything.
She had already decided she would build her walls back, stronger, thicker, taller than they were originally. The only drawback, he already had her heart. The worst part, he never wanted and didn't want it now, yet once she knew once she gave her heart willingly, she couldnot simply have it returned. As with past loves, it would take years; even then, she wasn't sure she could ever forget or move on with her live. She was his, for better or worse; apparently worse as he did not want her.

Too much is a bad thing

The saying too much of a good thing can be bad....is it true?
I've recently been informed I am at fault for all the negativity in my life. I am at fault for those I have cared so deeply having walking walked out of my life. It is my fault they left because I have cared too much.
Does this statement really bare any truth? Can a person really care too much? Can they give too much? Can being cared for or receiving too much from others really cause someone to want to walk away?
I have been left by my parents who turned their backs on a small child. I have been left by friends who said they would never leave. I've been abandoned by lovers who I gave my heart without walls. I have been left by my children.
Now, I am told each of these people who left me,who have caused me to doubt if anyone will stay, they each left because I cared too much, because I loved too deeply, because I gave too much - too much time, too much love, too much for them.
I once loved people the way I now hope to one day be loved-without reservation. Then time and time again, I was left. I became broken and skeptical.  I put walls around my heart and stayed in my own space. I became a sleepwalker in my own story. I did not feel and I did well in life. I was void of feeling....or rather I had learned to repress them all. I quickly learned to keep my head down and not create bonds with others; no bond meant no hurting when they walked out of my life.
In my bubble, I was my own worst enemy. I allowed the guilt of my past to walk through the door to my life again. Promises were made that were never meant to be kept and yet again, I was caring enough to believe.
Apparently, it was my fault for loving and caring.
Recently, I allowed someone to break down the walls from the outside rather than the inside as the last. For the first time I allowed someone who wasnt a part of my past into my head, into my past, into my inner most deeper feelings and the real stripped raw me. For a while, it was a give and take. Then I somehow crossed the line; I cared too much. I gave too much of me to someone who didnt really want it, who would never appreciate it.
I am then made to be the bad guy. It is my fault for caring too much, for giving too much, for being me. Why ask to be let into my walls, if you never wanted to be there?
So, again my question....can I really be the blame for everyone who walked out of my life simply because I cared too much, loved too deeply, or wanted to give and make people feel special.

Darkness

The dark had never felt so comforting and so lonely at the same time. At the end of the day when all was silent, she let down her guard and set aside her rought exterior as the tears rolled down her face. She would lie in bed remembering what it felt like to feel light and happy, to wear so easily a smile on her face. She has felt so niave in her innocent belief of the fairy tale. A fairy tale didn't mean no fighting or arguing, it didn't mean never being upset, but it did mean always being there for each other. The fairy tale meant effort by both parties to grow, to change, to work through the hard times and be happier in the good. The effort to change was not brought about by force from each other but from a drive within to be a better person, an improved version of ones self so the disappointment or hurt in the other person would never be felt or seen again.
She curled into a tighter ball, hugging the pillow under her head a little tighter as she buried her face further into it, attempting to wipe the tears which now flowed like a river. She knew even through he was not there for her, she loved him deeper than she had loved anyone else. She was trying hard to ignore the severed ties so the hallow, hurting feeling in her chest would subside. She knew her love for him was still very much alive burning deep within her as she was still attempting to improve herself in the hopes one day he would return and witness the wonderful changes she had made in hereself to be better for him. 
She worked hard each day to be a little more thoughtful in her words. Her love and compassion for society as a whole had always been what drove her to be honest and straightforward. Sometimes, being straightforward can come across as biting, dry, or rude. She wanted to speak to others with a smile in her tone. Unfortunately, his absense was to new to her and the pain often came across strong to others who crossed her path. The pain in her eyes, in her words, and in her mannerisms often made it seem she was angry. Nothing could be farther from the truth, she was not angry, she was in love and her heart breaking was leaving her breathless, speechless, and deeply saddened. There was no anger in her. 
She was disappointed in herself for giving so much of her self to someone else. She was even more upset she had let him explained to him how much power he held over her, how she only belonged to him; heart, mind, soul....it was all for him. Always, always for him....
She held on to solid hope. Her hope lead her to believe, one day they would be where they were a matter of months before he left. Her hope made sure she never, ever gave up on the "us" they were.  Yes, the seas were not always smooth sailing, but outside factors made the seas a lot rougher than they would have ever been otherwise. "So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; we're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me... everyday.” She had watched the movie a few times, but it had never meant anything to her, not until her path ran into his. She felt passion she had not known in years. She would rather "fight with him than make love to anyone else." 
The fairy tale did exist. She had tasted it for a brief moment with him, despite all the obstacles in their lives - work, individual interests, very little in common - when they had spent the time actually communicating and spending time together, she had felt lighter than air and renewed. 
Now, she just felt lifeless and alone. She had been tossed aside like a childs broken toy. Maybe one day the child would return to the toy, remember the joy, fix the broken piece, and shower it in the love and attention it had once provided. More likely, the toy would remain in the corner or buried in the bottom of a toy box one day, until all memories had faded and it was finally thrown away, no happiness to be felft by the toy again. 
As she sobbed deeply into the pillow, a chill spreading through her body as the loneliness and pain echoed through her body, she hoped realized, like the toy, she would never be done. Her love for him would never be finished. It would continue to grow and ripple, it would continue to echo in the empty spaces of her mind, her heart, her soul he had left behind in his exit from her life. She was not finished. Her failing hope let her believe somewhere deep inside of him, he was not done either. 

love letter

Dear you,

It has been a while since we have really talked. Does it seem so long for you? I once shared all my dreams, desires, and fear with you. Now, I keep most of it to myself.
I miss the way you would push me to be better. I miss the way you calm me. I miss you. I miss who I am when I am with you. Mostly, I miss us.
You are larger than life. You are all I dreamt I could find. You are far from perfect, but that makes you better. I didn't fall in love with a perfect person, I feel in love with a real one. I feel in love you. You have your dark side. I was honored when you showed me your demons. You have a sensitive side as well. I really think that side of you, the side fearful  of being hurt, or maybe even more fearful of hurting someone else, is why you put your walls and such distance between us. The only problem, you broke me, my heart, and my trust in the process.
I told you, I would be there for as long as you would allow. I meant that with every fiber of my being. It would not matter how much time or distance there may be between us, if you really needed me, if you really wanted me, I would be there at your side.
You claim you are no good to me. How can that be true? In the beginning, you politely held the mirror to may face and made me face my own demons rather than run from them. You helped me find my smile again as well as parts of me I thought were lost long ago. If you are bad for me, then why is it that I feel so comfortable in your presense? Why are you my natural anti-anxiety?
The claim you cause me more anxiety is so far from the truth it is almost laughable. You don't cause me any anxiety, your absense in my life cause me anxiety.
I have been bent, broken, knocked down, walked on, beat up, put down....the list of horrific acts committed to me by people I trusted is almost endless. I cannot be cruel to others because I know exactly how that cruelty feels. It wasn't until I fully began to trust you when some of your own cruel acts began to surface. However, unlike those who did it only to watch me suffer, I sincerely feel you do such to keep from hurting me or maybe more so to keep from hurting yourself if I happen to turn out like any of your past. The sad thing, that mindset of pushing me away is what broke me the most.
I think about you all the time still. My heart is in my throat as I write this, my eyes clouded with tears. I miss what was along with what could have been.
I am not perfect myself. I have my flaws. I have been left so much by those who claimed to care and those who should have loved me unconditionally, I often assume people are leaving when maybe they are not. You accused me of that with you. I told you early in our conversations, I worry sometimes I am self-prophesying. I am so skeptical of people, whether it be they are honest or they will stay or they really care; I often push people away by not just letting them be themselves and love me for me.
I did ask you once, just one time to say it, but you couldn't. I feel like you loved me, but just once I needed to hear it. You refused to give me my request.
You can water a flower and give it artifical light, but until you give it true sunshine and natural water, you will never see it bloom to its full potential. I believe the same is true for people. You began with "natural sunlight and water" or maybe it was all fake..... You would tell me the things I needed to hear. Then, you took it all away and left me in a corner. I am wilting away.
I have gone back to who I was before I met you. I will keep to myself. I will bite my tongue. I do not smile as I did with you. The biggest difference between who I am now and who I was before you seems to be the tears which constantly cloud my eyes. Sometimes, I hold them at bay, right at the lids; other times, they fall hard and fast like the rain outside my window currently.
You walked into my life and made me feel. Then you walked out like it was nothing. Not feeling meant there wasn't this pain in my chest or this struggle to breathe.
I miss you. I understand you don't want me anymore; however, it doesn't make it any easier. I wish one day you will realize you miss me. I can guarantee, I will still be missing you. I gave you all of me. It doesn't matter if you give that all back, I can't accept it. It will wait on the doorstep where you left it, until you are ready to take it back. If that day never comes, the day you really want to be with me; at least I knew for a breif period in time what it was like to love you and be happy. I will have the memories forever.
I wish I could easily move forward and forget you, but that is not who I am. I will never move past you. It has taken me half my life to 'move past' previous loves, and those were all from when I didn't really know what love was - a rose on valentines day, a starlight proposal, a kiss underwater at the city pool - they were the loves of a girl, a child. If it took 15 or more years to move past those, when I was young and niave, how long do you think it will take the woman I have become to move past this love, what many would truly claim was the love of my life? I won't. I know that now - as a fact.
Deciding many years from now to move forward with a social life would not mean my heart had healed and I had moved on from loving you. My heart doesn't work that way. The same way you have loved and still do those of your past even while with someone else, I will love you. I will never be able to fully give myself to anyone again unless that person is you.
I feel like the stupid cliche'. Have you seen the "NoteBook".... I feel like I should write you a letter every day for the next year. You won't come back then and I know it. Yet, when the time comes, if it ever does, when I decide to move forward instead of remaining stagnant in the dark corner where you left me, I will be sure who ever I speak to or spend time with understands, my heart will always belong to you. If you were to ever walk back into my life, they would know exactly where I would stand - beside you.
I miss you. I miss us. I miss the feel of you hands on my body. I miss the intesity of your eyes when you enter me. I miss the way you would hold me away from you just so you could look at me. I miss feeling beautiful in YOUR eyes.
I don't care what the world thinks of me. I do care about what you think of me. If this is our next chapter, then yes, it is a sad one. I will do my best to hold my head high, while the tears drip from my cheeks...
Somewhere, deep down, I will try to have hope in a few more chapters our paths will cross again only this time to continue side by side.
You hurt me. I have said things out of pain, some of which I regret - not all, but some. I do not wish to see you in pain, but there would be some comfort if I felt this wasn't so easy on you; easy for you to leave me, to walk away. I feel you will forget me. Just know, unless there is some freak accident, I will NEVER forget you. I will think of you daily. I will miss you lips on mine, my hand in yours, our bodies together. I will miss all I could have been with your push and support. Mostly, I will continue to miss us.
You hurt me and continue to do so. I am not saying you did or do so on purpose. However, the pain, the broken,. the tears, are all real just the same. I told you once before, I meant it then as I mean it now, it would be so much easier if I didn't love you. If I could just turn it off, I would do so, but I can't. I love you. I all of you...even the part of you that enjoys irritating me, the side of you that hurts me, the side of you that you want to hide from the world but I was lucky enough to see.... I LOVE YOU. I will continue to do so until I take my last breath. The pain I feel from you being gone, the void in my life and the uncontrollable tears, ....all of that makes me wish that last breath would come sooner rather than later. The very very small portion of me still holding onto my hopeful nature, tells me not to be rash but patience will return you to me.
In the mean time, I will continue to send my thoughts I can no longer share out into the netisphere...I will continue to pour my heart into my writing. I will continue to LOVE you.
Missing you, loving you...always....

A love letter

Dear you,

I can still remember the first time I saw you, our first few conversations, the butteflies you gave me then and the butterflies you still give me. I still remember our first kiss; how nervous I think we both were. When I stop long enough, I can still taste your kiss and feel the weight of your lips on mine. The intensity of your eyes appears behind my lids everytime I close my eyes.

I am not the person today I was when I met you. I was sleepwalking when you walked into my life. Our paths did not pass on purpose, but somehow they crossed none the less. Your presense woke me from a sleep I had been in for longer than I care to admit. I had not realized I was going through life as if I were sleep walking. Not only did you wake me, you pushed me to be more, to be better. You took the time to make me a better person in so many ways. I tried to do the same for you, to be a friend you could trust, to be someone who pushed you to be a better person.

I allowed you into the darkest places of my soul. I let you into the broken pieces of my heart. I broke down my walls and gave you every part of me. You began to follow the same path, you let me close. You cared and you loved. Then you became scared. You realized someone else had the power to hurt you and because of that, you held me at arms length.

Being pushed out of places you once let me so willingly tred, hurt me deeply, but I love you too much to let it matter. I decided I would not quit loving you because you had decided to quit loving me. I vowed to always be there when you needed me. I will never go back on that vow.

You have broken my heart, because it was yours to break. I am trying to nurse the pieces back together. Time after time you pushed me away, I pushed back to prove that I am here. I am not sure now where I stand with you. I am here. I am waiting  patiently for you to decide what you want. I know it will never be where it was. I know you refuse to be hurt as you once were so you shut down loving me even if deep down you really do, you will never say so. It isn't over for me. I will continue to be here. Whether it is a day from now, a week from now, a month from now, or years down there road, I will still be here and it will never be over for me. I would wait for you for eternity.

You claim I need constant validation, I do not. I just need you to not from hot to cold to ice and back again. I just need a little consistancy. I am fine with waiting without validation if the interactions are consistent.

I want you in my life. You have had all of me and it is still all yours. You have my heart, while it is currently in a fragile broken state. I want to be better for you. I want to be better so you can love me. I want to be better so you will think that I could be enough to be in your life. I don't care if it is only as friends, I am not done. I am not walking away. I am not leaving your side. I am not lying to you. I am telling you everything I have to offer. I am giving you all of me.

I do not know how to prove anymore to you that I am not who you think I may be when you are lost in your own thoughts late at night.

Even if I never talk with you again, I am and have been yours. I will remain loyal to you. My heart and soul belong to you and there they will stay.

My love letter to you.....an acknowledgement of the pain you can cause, of the tears I have cried, of the hurt I have felt and yet my continued loyalty to not walk away. I will continue to endure the pain, the tears, the hurt, becuase my heart is now yours....from the day we met until I take my last breath...it is yours as am I.

I am not done

It has been a while since I have written. I should be sleeping. I have not felt well or "right" for days. I feel dizzy, almost loopy, with this somewhat floating sensation. It is like not being a part of my body and I hate it. The feeling has caused vomiting and exhaustion. It has caused me to be extremely irritable with my family which it isn't their fault I feel this way however they do nothing to help while I am "out of commission." I am surrounded by selfish people.
I have a few very close friends who have been my shoulder to lean and cry on lately. They have held me, let me drink, listened to my rants, wiped my tears, and continued to support me while I further seek self indulgent punishment.  They are the friends I will never have to question how they feel about me. They hold a mirror to my face while still being overly supportive. They are there and answer me when I reach out to them. They tell me when they will not be availavle. They have been kind.
My heart breaks for reasons undeserving. For the loss of what I had thought was a great friendship but can't seem to lend an ear when I need or be present when I ask. I had and for some strange reason still highly esteem this person, yet the insults and accusations have hurt me deeply. The pain I feel from having someone I so openly trusted call me a liar without details to back up the claim is beyond anything I can describe.  To have that same person who was so much a part of my life make said accusations then refuse to speak to me verifies to me how very little I truly meant to them. I have been through so much that I trust very few people. I am not outgoing. I dont seek others. I dont let down my walls for anyone. There are even parts of my barrier walls I haven't let down for my children which sounds bad as a mom and according to said person, I am a pretty crappy mom, so that just proves the point. Yet, I let them in, all the way. I broke down all the barriers and allowed all the trust. To know how fooled I was or am, yes, that stings. What hurts even more is knowing if the person would pull their head from their anus for one moment and act like half a person again, I would leave all the barriers down.
My heart breaks. My tears fall. The relationship dies, I suppose.
I try to embrace it. I try to move on with my life, but the pain of being so wrong and giving so much keeps me tied in place. If someone doesn't want to be included in my life, I should be fine letting them walk the other direction. I am just not fully prepared yet to do so with this person. I invested so many parts of my heart and soul to them that I feel walking away is just the easy way. I won't beg them to stay, but I can't bring myself to close that door yet either.
I am not done.....
I do  not know if it would be easier or harder for them to not be done....but I sincerely hope they are not done yet either.
I am trying to hold steadfast in waiting for them to communicate first. If not....will I be strong enough to continue to wait. Can I love myself enough to let it go?
I am not done........

Growing up "rural"

Growing up in rural communities can be a blessing and a curse. I had my fair share of good memories and my fair share of tramatic events over my lifetime and most from an early age.
Kids can be mean. Kids at any age in any area can be very mean. Typically, children have kind hearts, gentle souls, and open minds and must be taught to be mean. Growing up in rural communities can mean growing up with cousins right down the road, an aunt for a teacher, or an uncle who is the principal. Unfortunately, in a lot of these rural communities, if you and I mean I, weren't related, you just did not belong there.
I was born in the greater New England area, Massachusetts to be exact. For those who have trouble pronouncing that state, it sounds more like "Mass a CHEW sits" - rather than "Mass a two sits". At an early age, I was moved to the rural area of the Ozark Mountains best referred to as Stone County AR. I lived all over the county, but I went to school at a very small rural school found in Fox, AR. Most of my youth was spend living in the Fox area. The town has roughly 360 people and EVERYONE seems to be related, except for me at that time. Not only was I not related, I talked funny to them and I dressed weird. I grew up poor. My  mom believed in dressing me in saddle shoes and homemade dresses with aprons and bonnets, much like Little House on the Prairie. I loved my neighbors before I started school, and she made most of my clothes. What wasn't hand made in my early years was hand me downs.
The kids I started kindergarten with were my classmates for the next 13 years roughly. Some came and some went, but for the most part, they were there the whole time. When your class size is 20, it is hard to not still see someone they way you did when you were in kindergarten. I never outgrew the stigma of not being one of them. I never outgrew the names they called me. I never grew beyond the scared 5 year old who just wanted to be liked and make new friends.
I did not belong with them. I was able to make some friends along the way. I was blind to it for a while. I think mostly because I blocked a large portion of my past. See, my mom had this boyfriend who lived with us. We had moved from the top of Timbo Mtn to Parma area. We had a nice house with a sun room and awesome neighbors (yes the one who made my clothes). However, there was this guy. He was ex military. He had some demons of his own he needed to exercise. Instead, he found me, when my mom was passed out, he would come to my room. When I told my mom, she would tell me I dreamt it or imagined it all. Yes, because any healthy little 5 year old girl would make up a story about a 30 year old man coming into her room at night to touch her sexually.
This same unstable guy the summer I turned 6 I believe, decided to really fall off his rocker. He freaked out and then tried to shoot our other neighbors, then almost killed my mom. I walked into the room while he had the gun cocked and pointed at her head while she was passed out from the concussions he gave her with the heal of his loafer on either side of her forehead. He tried to usher me back to the room but I had startled him enough that he lowered the gun, then the phone rang, and most of the rest of it is a blur. I remember images of seeing him with my mom on the front porch with the cops and he begging them to just leave them alone. I remember watching him jump the porch railing and race off to the woods. I vaguely remember sitting in the cop car with the sheriff. I can still hear the shot of the gun and the shattering of the glass, the push from the sheriff to keep me from being hit by the bullet intended for me. He took the bullet in his right shoulder.
It was a lot of these events that block much of my early early childhood.
Much of what I remember is from 4th grade or later. I spent 2nd grade with my dad and I remember a lot of that time, although not all of it. I remember pieces of 3rd grade when my dad sent me back to live with my mom because he didn't want me anymore - I was too much of a burden on his marriage.
It was once I moved back that I remember growing up on Little Red River Road. I remember spending most of my time riding my back on the 4 miles of dirt road. I remember my best friend and brother John. I have such fond memories of the kids who I was in class with who lived on that road. John and I were almost inseperable, if I wasn't at his house most often he was at mine. We would climb the cliffs behind the house, hide in the trees, ride our bikes, and so on. Life was easy and somewhat carefree. I had classmates who were still mean as kids will be. I was told how ugly, fat, and annoying I was by girls I considered friends and guys I had hoped would see me differently. I was told my voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard and I talked to much; my voiced sucked for singing so I was better just being silent. I was told I couldn't dance to save my life and I should just forget music altogether. Yes, kids are mean. However, due to circumstance of my past, I never grew beyond the girl who was told all these things. I still believe those hurtful words because I am rarely if ever told any different.
Those times, those are the hard times, the rough times, of growing up in a rural community. However, the offset of the dirt roads and local rivers, creeks, and swimming areas those are the positives to growing up in a rural community. My life wasn't completly miserable, but it didn't lack for trials and tramatic events.

Serenity

      The flame danced and so did the shadows the candle projected on the walls. She lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His arm half encircled her bare waist, and she thought this is where home is, not a physical building, but a set of arms that made her feel safe. Her index finger traced small circles on his chest, as her half lidded eyes fought to stay awake. There was something so comforting in his mere presence similiar to a sedative. She listened to his breathing and pin pointed the exact minute he finally slipped into a peaceful sleep. She wasn't sure which made her happier, the moment when he filled her and their bodies became one or the moment when he let loose of all control. In that moment of release, he quit thinking and became tranquil before finally drifting off to a sweet sleep; watching him sleep was one of her prefered activities. She breathed in the scent of him, yet again feeling her own lids grow heavier. She was at complete peace in the moment. 

      Her eyes closed. She still focused on his breathing which told her he was completely asleep. His arm loosened slighly around her as he fully relaxed into the early stages of R.E.M. She tried hard to remain in the room and the moment, yet too soon, sleep overtook her. As she feel asleep, her mind drifted to a meadow. She was lying on a sheet in the field with a picnic basket by her feet, and he was stretched out beside her. They were laughing. The sun was bright and warm overhead and a slight breeze blew her hair. His eyes shone bright and the smile across his lips was wide. As the moment played in her dreams, a dark cloud quickly slipped over the sun, the wind picked up and where she was once lying beside him in a flowered meadow, she was now standing at the edge of a forrest before a huge storm. As she turned to look for shelter, she noticed he was no longer there, she was completely alone. The dark cloud quickly became a wall of yet black clouds. She started to become increasingly worried about her situation. Why wasn't he there? Why was she alone? What type of storm was heading her way? Did she need shelter? The more questions taht crossed her mind, the more anxious she became. 

     In the room, her body tightened and she jumped. His arms quickly pulled her closer and he kissed the top of her head. She was still sleeping, but on the fringe of being awake. The warmth of his arms pulling her closer to him allowed her tense body to calm and relax. She moved her face further into his chest and wrapped her arm around his chest and under his other arm. She pulled herself closer into his body and as she did, she awoke a little more. As she came to, she had a need so intense, a need to  drive away the black clouds from her dream, a need to forget the fear of no having him near. She wrapped her leg over his waist and reached up to kiss his lips. She knew by the response in his body that while his eyes remained closed he was mostly awake himself. He responded to the kiss, soft at first, and growing more hungry in the process. She matched the hunger full of desire. 

      He swiftly rolled her onto her back, holding her body with one arm, he used his other hand to cup her face, drawing her closer to him. Something about the feel of his hand holding her face always sent butterflies to flight in her stomach. Her leg wrapped around his waist and the rest of her body melted into his. The feel of his hands on her body, warm, soft, and caring, was welcome to her and her body; a body that often had not felt a caring touch. He pulled back slightly and as she moved forward to tug on his bottom lip with her teeth, he pulled back a little more. Her confidence waivered for a moment, but then she took a good look at him. She realized he was doing the same. His stare was so intense it made her stomach flip. His eyes shone of longing and a deep affection she couldn't put into words. It intensified in her own as she stared deeply back his eyes. During the passionate moment for which their eyes were locked, he entered her again, her body rising to meet his. 

     After they were both pushed to the breaking point and beyond, they fell back into the same position; her head on his chest and his arm encircling her waist. His hand lighly caressed her arm as she listened yet again to the beating of his heart. The perfect rhythm it produced was like listening to rain drops on a tin roof, it was melodic and quickly had her resting peacefully. There was no place she felt safer, no person who could calm her as quickly, no way she would rather spend her time than with him. 

Windows to the Soul

His eyes haunt me. I wake to thier image behind my closed lids. I fall asleep to the image of them burning in my mind. I dream about them most nights. There is much concealed in those dark, smoldering eyes. I have a multitude of questions which are often forgotten or overlooked. I observe those eyees when we are near, waiting for any insight to of the feelings buried deep within them. I concentrate on his words as I examine his eyes, attempting to decode the thoughts he keeps so close to his chest and won't share.

It seems extremely cruel to have let down my defenses. He has witnessed me during my most vulnerable state, and yet he denies sharing similarily with me. He deems it fair for him to be able to see others, yet will refraining from allowing others to see him in the same manner. His defenses stay securely intact. Perhaps there will come a day when he will identify someone worthy of lowering his defenses. In the meantime, I curiously observe and attempt to solve the puzzle of the man which sits before me.

I revel in his discussions but repeatedly his eyes don't match his verbalized thoughts, convincing me he is often withholding a part of his emotions or possibly an intricate concept. The eyes are the windows to the soul or so we are told. His eyes are dark and feel independent of his being. Don't mistake me, he has moments during which his eyes are warm and caring, but those moments are few and far between. Most often, they are cold and calculated and shut down any further invasion into who he truly is.

His eyes express all while revealing nought. They witness plenty yet process considerably different than any individual I have met. I would sacrifice greatly to witness his barriers, his defenses, descend and grant me passage into the soul hidden deep within their confines, if only for a brief moment. I suppose I once was inside those barriers;  the experience of being within comparable to a warm summer rain at the instant the sun emerges from the clouds.  A place which I chose never to abandon, and yet as quickly as I felt the warmth, I was thrust out again. It was security, comfort, yet soul wrenching simultaneously; resembling the luxury of a compassionate embrace on a day bursting with sunshine to standing isolated in a blizzard with no protection from the cold. He holds no hateful or callous intent when holding souls outside his barriers; rather it is executed as self-preservation. I, of all people, identify with self-defense mechanisms. I consider prior episodes during which he permitted my entrance into the warm sanctuary of that sweltering stare; however, I remained too locked behind my own barriers to grant myself entry where so few had been allowed. The mistake was mine in believing his barricades would remain unrestricted until I was prepared.


It is possibly my mistake now to think I will ever be let back behind those walls. It is likely a lost cause and I should forget what is there. I should try to block those eyes from the images that play behind my eyes, in my thoughts, or in my dreams. Unfortunately, it all too easy to state what should be done and less likely to actually be able to follow through on those thoughts. In the meantime, I will continue to watch, to attempt to learn, and to see those eyes everywhere I go. I will continue to be mesmerized by their magic, their depth, their intelligence, and their conundrum of the emotions and thoughts of the person they represent. I will work to decode the puzzle they represent, for the challenge is well worth the prize.

Holiday lost magic

I don't care much for the holidays. It's been years since they held the magic for me they once did. I try each year to put my heart into this time of year, with a little hope that it will be different from the year before, and each year I am disappointed, because while it is different, it hasn't improved, but is only more disappointing. My children are the number one reason for my attempt each year to make the season magical and pour every ounce of my heart into it, well, my children and others for which I care deeply. Unfortunately, Christmas has lost its meaning to so many who are more worried about what is under the tree than who is gathered around the table later. The more the people who I care so deeply for, such as my children, take the magic for granted and appear so ungrateful, I become more disheartened. There are many factors which weigh into the equation of my frustration, heart break, and disappointment.
The biggest factor is the lack of family close to me. I grew up in a large family, while there was only my mom, my brother and me, we lived close to my maternal grandparents and each of my mom's siblings, their significant others and their children (my cousins). I remember everyone gathering at Grandma and Grandpa's house to eat dinner, with the adults at one table and the kids at a smaller table set to the side in the almost pantry area. We didn't get a ton of toys but mom did what she could to keep the magic alive. My grandparents would get a single gift for each grand kid and I would also get a gift from each of the other families (my Aunt Dolly, Aunt Ellie, and Uncle Bob). The gifts weren't important. The magic was in everyone under one roof, the hugs, the loud talk, and everyone gathered around the table after long hours in the kitchen cooking. After my grandparents died in 2002, it was never the same. The siblings were too busy backstabbing, and our close nit family went the way of a tornado, blown apart and scattered.
My kids will never truly know the excitement and magic of family gathered for the holidays. We have a few set holiday traditions with my inlaws, but it isn't the same. The magic is there the way I remember it when I was 5, or 10, or even 15. My children almost dread going to family on the holidays and I as a child had always looked forward to going. While I may not be as excited as I should be, I always try to make my kids excited, quoting special traditions and acting happy about the travels.Yet, it doesn't seem to make a difference to them in their outlook of the travels.
Another big factor in my lack of interest in Christmas or the whole holiday season (Thanksgiving to New Year) is the lack of thought and caring from others. I put forth my best, throwing myself into cooking a large meal, only to be chastised for wasted cost. I then put thought into each gift I select, only to be chastised again for having too much under the tree. When I do smaller versions of the holidays, I am yet again chastised for not having done enough. Yet, during all this criticism, no one seems to be willing to think about me, or put a caring thought into doing something for me, whether it be a small gift or a kind action. The older I get, the more it seems those I surround myself with are just worried about themselves. I still believe in putting others first, and this backfires on me. If I put someone else first, and they put themselves first, where does that leave myself, or others? Where has our thought and caring gone? Why can't society at least for a small season, put some thought and caring into their actions?
One of the final huge factors, I tend to have people in my life who care more about themselves than about others, and I prefer it the reverse. This point follows closely on the heels or almost exactly mirrors the point listed previously. How is it or why is it that society has become so obsessed with themselves? Where did good deeds and loving our fellow man disappear? Or rather when did it disappear? And why am I so attracted to those who can't see beyond their own nose? I would love to have selfless people in my life, and yet, my selflessness appears to only attact selfishness. From my spouse to my kids and even co workers (few expections here, so don't everyone take offense), it appears everyone is in this life for what it offers them rather than what they can provide to it. How can life be fulfilling if you are only worried about yourself? Life becomes much more meaningful when you worry about what you can do for others. Which is where I think I lost my spirit of the holidays this year; I did not make time as I should have for what I could do for others until it was too late. While I live for the crunch, it took most of the magic out of the season and only added stress. My heart was not full, because I didn't have time to share my kindness, caring, and compassion with others who would appreciate it. I shared these gifts with those who would rather have money than kindness and that left me empty and hollow. I love doing for others, but it doesn't feel rewarding when it isn't appreciated, and much of what I did was not appreciated this year. Therefore, I don't care much for the holidays anymore. I hope next year, I will be in a better place in many aspects and will find the magic again. For now, it is lost.....